


Representation

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:16:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rumplestiltskin accidentally walks in on Belle watching a movie of a rather adult nature, they decide it's high time for the two of them to face their insecurities and start exploring their physical desire for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rumplestiltskin is almost giddy when he pulls up the car on the driveway of the house where his cursed self has lived for the past twenty-eight years. Belle may have been living there with him for several months now, her presence making the place like a true home after all, but he'll never get tired of coming back from his shop to find her there, awaiting his return.

Parking the car, he grabs the bouquet of flowers which her father grudgingly sold him from the passenger's seat, hoping that his True Love will be as happy as he is that he closed the shop two hours earlier than usual to start his weekend with her.

He makes his way up the stairs leading to the front door as quickly as possible, already imagining Belle's eyes lighting up in delight at his unexpected arrival. It'll never cease to amaze him that his presence evokes such a reaction from her. Experiencing it once is incredible enough in itself; there simply is no describing the joy of being greeted by her like that every single time.

Locking the front door behind him once he's inside the house, Rumplestiltskin hastily makes his way down the hallway, fully intending to find Belle as quickly as he can. With the weather being as nice as it is for this time of year, he expects her to be in the back yard, exploring her newfound fascination and enjoyment of gardening.

But when he walks past the living room, there are faint noises coming from behind the usually open door. Assuming that Belle is inside the house after all, he reaches to open the door. Just before he reaches for the doorknob, the previously indistinct sound turns into what appears to be a male grunt.

Tensing in alarm, thorough concern shoots through him for whatever might be going on in the other room. Driven by nothing but worry for Belle, Rumplestiltskin doesn't think at all when he bursts through the door.

Once he's inside, he frantically looks around for the woman of his dreams and whatever the source is of the sounds he heard. His eyes firstly fall on the large television almost right in front of him. The screen is undeniably filled with a man and a woman locked in an intimate embrace, both of them in a complete state of undress and enthusiastically vocalizing their eagerness.

Although the man's face is contorted with pleasure, Rumplestiltskin can't help but notice that the other man is at least two decades younger than his own physical form in this land, and infinitely more handsome.

A shriek from Belle drags his attention from the screen to his True Love, who turns out to be sitting on the couch facing the television, the remote control in her hand. It's suddenly very, very quiet in the living room and when he intuitively glances back to the screen, he finds that it has been turned to black.

The picture on the DVD cover lying on the salon table leaves no doubt however about what he just saw... about what Belle was watching before he came in unannounced.

His mouth falls open when he looks back at Belle. Her loose hair is tousled, her cheeks a shade of red he's never seen before. Her eyes are dark and very, very wide.

"Rumple," she squeaks out, "I hadn't expected you to be back so soon."

"I... I came home early to surprise you."

Rumplestiltskin is hardly able to find words, but it doesn't escape him that  _he_  is the one who got a surprise. The roses fall from his suddenly numb fingers as he wonders what is going on... or rather, what Belle was doing exactly when watching the adult movie.

"I... I can explain," she says, just as perplexed as he is.

It's difficult enough for him to cope with his confusion and concern as it is, but her husky voice isn't making it any easier whatsoever.

"You don't have to defend anything. You are free to do – and watch – whatever you feel like. Please don't feel like you have to explain yourself to me."

He looks around the room again, telling himself that he makes certain that the male voice he heard really came from the television, that Belle isn't in danger of any kind after all.

"I'm... I'm sorry for walking in on you.. I should have announced myself... I should have called to let you know that I was coming home early," he adds, staring at the ground between her and himself, his cheeks flushing as well. "I didn't mean to disturb you like this, when you were doing something... private."

"It isn't... well, it  _is_  private, but not... private-private. We're  _together_ , Rumple. We ought to be able to talk about such things together... to  _do_ things together."

"You didn't talk with me about this, and you don't have to," he replies, very careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. He doesn't want her to think he experiences anything he isn't actually feeling.

Almost as much as that, Rumplestiltskin doesn't want her to know that he can't help but be hurt that, rather than watching the movie in the first place, she didn't tell him about her intentions to do so... about her apparent  _wish_  to do so.

More than anything, this confirms for him what he has always expected, always  _known_. He can't possibly give this young and curious,  _beautiful_  woman nearly everything she needs, let alone deserves.

Indeed, it comes as no surprise whatsoever to him that she looks elsewhere for the entertainment and satisfaction he in all likelihood can't provide without disappointing her, for as far as she would want  _his_  intimate touch in the first place.

He has been so very, very careful to be gentle with her. No matter how much his body sometimes tells him otherwise, her companionship is the only thing he needs, her acceptance and loveliness. Her willingness to spend her days with him, to accept his chaste kisses and initiate her own, is what's worth to him the most in their relationship.

In the end, not indulging in his physical desire for her is a small price to pay for not losing her companionship.

"I don't want to defend myself, but I would very much like to explain what I was doing."

"I'm listening, sweetheart," he replies, his mind already imagining a dozen of things she might be going to say, all of them increasingly unpleasant.

He has always known that there was no way that their relationship was going to last, that there would sooner or later come a point where she realized that he isn't good enough for her.

"Come sit with me?"

Rumplestiltskin nods, as always unable to deny her anything. He sits down next to her on the large couch, making sure to keep distance between them. He's glad that her face has mostly regained its usual color, that her beauty doesn't any longer drive him to yet more distraction than she usually does.

"We don't do...  _things_  together, and we don't talk about them either," she begins, her emphasis on the word 'things' making very clear to him what she's referring to. "I  _want_ to, Rumple. I want it... I want  _you._ But I didn't know where to start. I never learned much about such things in our land; I have never gotten my hands on any actually useful books."

He relaxes slightly at the way she fondly looks at him.

"Whereas in this land, I found that there's an abundance of information and... visuals. But often without context, or not as... educational as I was looking for. Before talking to you, I wanted to know... well, I wanted to know for myself what I was talking about. To make sense of what I actually want, because I didn't really know."

Not hearing the rejection he was expecting, not yet anyway, Rumplestiltskin becomes intrigued rather than wary of what she's telling him.

"I don't really know either," he admits quietly, wanting to at least some extent share his own fears and insecurities with her, so she might better understand his choices no matter what's going to happen between them next. "Milah did, but... she said I wasn't any good. She said that often. Long after she was gone, I still kept thinking..."

All but hearing his former wife's mocking laughter echo in his mind, he shakes his head in a not entirely successful attempt to push those memories away.

"Are you afraid, Rumple? Is that why you never touch me like... like a lover?"

He nods quietly. He never thought he would ever dare to put this out in the open between them, but he's somewhat relieved now that he has done so after all and Belle looks at him with nothing but understanding.

"I think I'm afraid too," she says, taking his hand and squeezing it encouragingly. He takes great comfort in the familiar gesture, these circumstances apparently no exception to her tendency to soothe him with such wonderful touches. "I'm afraid of not knowing, I mean. I'm not afraid of learning together with you – it has never been that."

She looks meaningfully at him and Rumplestiltskin isn't nearly as relaxed anymore, but for a whole different reason than before.

"I want to be with you, eventually in every way possible," she breathes, still holding his hand. "But I didn't know how to talk to you about it, hardly knew anything about it at all, and I didn't know where I could best begin looking. So I asked Ruby if she could recommend me anything to help me understand the basic mechanics. I supposed that would be as good a starting point as any."

Rumplestiltskin's temperature is rising considerably at the discovery that Belle pursued her interest in the topic like that, and that she fully intended to include him in her quest to learn more of physical intimacy sooner rather than later.

"Ruby lent me this movie earlier this afternoon. I wanted to see it for myself before talking to you about it, so I watched it as soon as I got home. I planned to discuss it once you got back as well, but... Despite what Ruby said, the movie was still a lot more... explicit than I thought. It was a bit alarming at first, but soon I liked it.  _Really_ liked it."

Redness appears on her face again. Heat is rising to his own cheeks as well at the realization that Belle was aroused by something she was exploring for both of them when he burst into the room.

"The movie was almost over when you arrived. Just before you did, I decided that I didn't want to wait until six anymore for you to come back. I wanted to call you as soon as the movie was over to ask you to come home so we could talk, and maybe..."

She looks meaningfully at him and his breath quickens at the discovery of just how much she apparently wanted to share this experience with him, that her pursuits were driven by nothing but the best hopes for the two of them as a couple.

"Let's watch it together," she whispers breathlessly.

There's something in her voice, something in those gorgeous eyes that are silently pleading with him, that causes him to nod in agreement against his better judgment.

The knowledge that she  _likes_  this and wants to share this with him is just enough to overcome his fear that this can only end badly, that he'll never be able to live up to whatever she's going to expect for them – from  _him -_ based on whatever the exact content of the movie will turn out to be.

Stupidly realizing that he's still wearing his coat – and that the roses he got for her are lying on the floor – he stands up to shrug out of the heavy black fabric. Thoughtlessly discarding it on a nearby armchair, he picks up the bouquet and offers it to her after all with a self-depreciating smile.

"Thank you," she says, her radiant face leaving him as speechless as it always does, especially when she bows her head to smell the roses, her eyes closing for a moment. "I'll... I'll put them in a vase later."

He nods again, her sudden urgency fully reminding him of what they are about to do. Nervousness and a strange sense of eagerness alike fluttering within him, he sits down next to her on the couch again.

"Did you watch things like this?" Belle asks when she reaches for the remote control. "When you were cursed? Or... after?"

"Definitely not after. But during the curse, I often couldn't sleep at night. Sometimes I watched television, going through the channels until I found something that helped pass the time. Often, such movies were aired. Sometimes I watched for a while when I stumbled upon them, but I didn't find any of it... appealing."

Rumplestiltskin inwardly shudders at the vague memory of those large, muscled and very well-endowed men pounding endlessly into often almost motionless, unnaturally augmented women, yelling meaningless obscenities at each other for as long as his curiosity outweighed his disgust. Those things are everything he is not and does not want to do with Belle.

"Ruby said this movie is different than most of its kind," she says, as if sensing his lingering hesitation. Then again, she doubtlessly  _is_ , in that almost magical way of hers. "I don't know how this one is compared to others, but I think this one is beautiful, if very... graphic. She said that I will probably find this one useful because it also focuses on the female's pleasure."

His inward question whether the wolf was doubting his prowess when she recommended this particular film - she would be entirely right to, but that's not the point – is gone when he spots the somewhat confused look on Belle's face.

Thinking back on what she just said, he supposes that his innocent True Love is puzzled by the implication that it's rare for such movies not to neglect the woman's enjoyment.

 _And yet, she truly likes_ this  _movie_.

Rumplestiltskin is curious despite himself... well, more than merely curious after what she just told him.

Although he dreads Belle to develop any expectation that he is able to satisfy her like he is half his physical age, entirely able-bodied and actually experienced - for as far as she hasn't done so already - he has become rather willing to watch the movie with her. With some luck, it might actually enlighten him on how to meet those expectations to at least some extent.

"Shall we give it a try?" she asks softly, not quite looking him in the eyes.

He's encouraged by the realization that, beneath all her usual bravery, she appears to be somewhat nervous herself. It reminds him that they're in this together, and that Belle would never mock or hurt him.

At his shaky nod, she brings the screen back to life.


	2. Chapter 2

Trying to persuade himself that there's no point in getting particularly worried before he has even seen a single scene of the adult movie that Belle wants to watch with him, Rumplestiltskin tries to relax as she navigates back to the beginning of the movie, her fingers moving more easily over the remote control than his ever have.

The tension is indeed partially dispelled from his body when the beginning of the movie might as well be from a regular one, the man and the woman who were together striving for a doubtlessly very mutually pleasurable climax when he entered the living room at this point simply talking about one thing or another with all their clothes on.

"The actor reminds me a little of you," Belle says without taking her eyes off the screen, dashing all his hopes of trying to stay calm at least in this early phase.

The relatively slight and not ridiculously muscled actor and he have somewhat similar accents. Maybe their facial structure is somewhat alike as well when seen from a certain angle and with a certain light, but other than that the lead actor is every bit as handsome and charming as Rumplestiltskin feared he would be. Indeed, the actor is everything that he himself is  _not_ , and he has no idea whatsoever how the other man can possibly remind her of him.

There is no considering whether he should be flattered or worried that Belle sees similarities between him and the considerably younger and more attractive actor. Similarly, he doesn't get the chance to fully appreciate that his True Love is considerably more beautiful than the woman in the film, for the next scene of the movie features a bed that's in all likelihood going to be used for only a single purpose.

Indeed, within moments the male and the female character are sharing increasingly deep and urgent kisses and start running their hands all over each other. Their dialog makes clear that the two of them know each other, but have not engaged in a physical relationship together before.

Feeling increasingly self-conscious while watching the two actors like this, he dares to cast a quick look at Belle from the corners of his eyes. He finds her looking at the scene with rapt attention.

Reminding himself that she wants to share this with him and that she implied that this movie isn't like those of the same genre that had him switch off the television in disgust, Rumplestiltskin shifts on the couch in an attempt to get more comfortable and continues watching the pair on the screen.

Rather than tearing each other's clothes off and getting straight to the main part, the two characters take their time to explore one another with their clothes still on. They kiss and caress with abandon, but their desire is mixed with a tenderness and affection he has never seen on screen before.

Instead of shying away from the images that can't be included in any other kind of movie, the camera unabashedly zooms in on the man's hand as it touches the woman's still covered chest.

The possibility occurring to him that Belle might like to be touched like the woman on the screen, Rumplestiltskin begins to watch this early scene in a different way, purposefully watching how the male character is bestowing his attention on his leading lady and how he responds in turn to her enthusiastic reactions.

The characters break away from each other for a moment, sharing a  _look._ Despite the lack of dialog, Rumplestiltskin knows that this is the moment where the two decide to share more than heavy kisses.

Telling himself that it's because of his new, analytical way of looking at the film, he becomes somewhat appreciative of the way the characters take their time together, their affection seemingly only increasing now that they have decided to take their encounter further.

Their movements become slower, almost somewhat uncertain, as the two determine to sleep together for the first time. The man looks somewhat hesitant even - or at least until the woman shrugs off her robe, revealing that she's wearing nothing whatsoever beneath it, and places his hand on her bare breast.

Rumplestiltskin takes careful note of the way the man on the screen touches the woman in his arms, how he touches and later kisses the woman's chest, trying to determine how much pressure is used and whether – and if so, to what extent – his teeth come into play.

The characters stroke each other's backs and arms reverently, kissing one another's neck tenderly but with increasing urgency. There is  _definitely_ something enjoyable about watching this.

He has to hold back a moan when the other man slips his hand between the woman's legs, caressing her purposefully but ever so tenderly. He wonders what it might be like if he were to touch Belle in such a way...what he should do exactly if they would ever get that far.

To his frustration, the combination of the angle of the camera and the position of the man's hand prevents Rumplestiltskin from seeing how the man is touching her between her legs, what has her moaning in pleasure like that. He inwardly grumbles at the irony of the movie he initially was reluctant to watch because of its adult content turning out to be not as explicit as he would like it to be right now.

There is no lamenting that for long, though. In the blink of an eye, the man moves down the woman's body, kissing her skin as he goes, until he...

His close attention is diverted from the screen to the woman at his side, who gasps out loud when the male character kisses his partner between the legs. Momentarily torn between such utterly tempting displays, Rumplestiltskin turns his attention back to the screen out of sheer desperation to  _learn_ , but not before taking in the way Belle licks her lips.

Determined to discover whatever he can from his, he's frustrated that he once more can't see what the man is actually doing with his mouth. Then again, it's strangely enjoyable just to watch the man pleasure the woman, her increasingly loud gasps filling the room through the expensive sound system.

So pleasant, indeed, that the only slightly familiar stirring in his loins escapes his attention for the time being.

Wondering whether he could bring Belle to climax like this if the two of them were ever to try this, he almost screams out loud in disbelief when the man moves away from between the woman's legs, going back up to embrace her and kiss her mouth once more instead.

"What's wrong?" his True Love asks in a small voice, looking away from the television to meet his gaze.

"He just... stopped," he manages to say, "before she..."

"So you would rather go on until I..."

He jerks his head in confirmation, only when her eyes widen further realizing what he just actually all but said.

It's a relief when a grunt drags her attention back to the screen. Looking back himself, he finds that the man is divested of his trousers now and that the woman strokes him through the briefs he's still wearing. Rumplestiltskin groans himself at the sight of it, imagining that he's the one being touched this way, having Belle's hands on him like this.

The woman pulls the man on top of her and the two move together, kissing and caressing, the woman's legs locking behind the man's back. Before it fully dawns on him that Belle and he could try this if they ever get to this point, taking their relationship this far but leaving their underwear on as some sort of final safety barrier, the man sits back on his knees and lets the woman pulls his briefs down his thighs.

Rumplestiltskin's sense of inferiority is back in full force when the other man's manhood is revealed, all but jumping into view once the elastic band of his underwear slides down him. He may not be as large as the men he glanced at in other movies, but still... well,  _large_.

The woman takes him in hand, stroking him, his size increasing further at the additional stimulation. Still, even as Rumplestiltskin wonders just how disappointed Belle will be if she would see him this way, he imagines what it would be like if she were to pleasure him like this.

Moving closer to the woman, the man positions his hand between her legs once more, continuing his earlier efforts. With another groan of his own, he watches the two characters stimulate each other, his own arousal not only fueled by imagining Belle and himself in a similar situation.

He may not have believed initially that he would feel the same way, but he too finds once more that there is something very, very enjoyable about this, even if Belle wouldn't have been at his side, being affected by the movie in a very similar way.

"This is one of my favorite parts," she whispers, shifting restlessly next to him.

Briefly glancing at her, he sees her clenching her thighs, which in turn brings his own arousal to his attention, straining against the usually impeccable fabric of his trousers. Rather than feeling particularly self-conscious about it, Rumplestiltskin is aware of her hand lying on the couch between them, questioning.

He grasps her hand, their fingers entwining when they turn their attention back to the television. Both of them moan simultaneously when the woman takes the man in hand again and guides him directly to what must be the most sensitive part of her, pleasuring herself by rubbing him against her. He doesn't need to hear their mutual, ever so loud groans to know that both of the characters find great pleasure in the act.

He groans out louder than ever before when the woman moves down and takes her partner's manhood into her mouth without ado. His own arousal almost painful, he looks at Belle when her grip on their joined hands tightens, finding her staring at him.

He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining that he possessed as much stamina and self-control as the actor. If he were to be inside Belle's mouth, her head bobbing up and down in his lap like that, Rumplestiltskin supposes he could only discomfort or even upset her in the process. And if that wouldn't happen... well, in all likelihood he would make an utter fool of himself at the very least.

"Would you like me to do this for you?" she asks, her voice maddeningly husky.

For a terrible moment he presumes that she's mocking him. Fortunately, there's nothing but sincere curiosity in her eyes when she asks a question to which the answer is seemingly almost overly obvious.

Still, knowing how much he would ruin such a potential occasion, there's no way that he can tell her just how much he can't help but want this.

"We don't have to," he tries to tell her, unable to bring himself to actually inform her that he doesn't want to do this at all. "I'm not asking you to..."

She interrupts him with a stern, knowing gaze.

"I would like to do this, yes," he replies, incapable of saying anything but the naked truth in that heated moment. "I would like that very much."

Realizing that she didn't know before how much he would enjoy this makes him see yet more just how beneficial watching this is for both of them.

"All right," she just says, looking back at the screen with the same expression she wears when she tries to memorize something in a book.

He tightens his hold on her hand when he realizes that she's studying this just like he is, that she probably intends to put this knowledge into practice one day. With that in mind, it hardly matters that the woman on the television withdraws after a minute or so, the man not visibly reacting when he isn't any longer in the heaven that must be her mouth.

"I wouldn't stop either, not until you..."

Belle looks at him, her blush only making her more beautiful. He almost loses it at the implication, at the way she glances at his lap and bites her lip in something which he can only categorize as lustful consideration rather than the disgust that would make so much more sense to him.

The woman retrieves something that must be a condom from her discarded dressing gown and he looks with close attention at the close-up of the woman putting it in place. He can easily make a potion that would make certain that any potential physical contact between them wouldn't have any unwanted side-effects, but he keeps other options open as long as he isn't certain that Belle agrees to rely on magic in this matter.

"Ruby got me plenty of those," she mutters, talking more to herself than to him. He splutters regardless at the discovery how well-prepared she is... how determined and  _eager_.

Staring at his True Love with adoration and ever increasing desire when her gaze is still firmly on the screen, he looks back himself only when a loud scream from the actress alerts him that he missed the moment of penetration, the man already rolling the woman on top of him while inside her.

When the woman begins to move, the man's hands are idle on her waist. Much to Rumplestiltskin's dismay, her own hand dips between her thighs to provide the stimulation that their current position apparently denies her.

"What's wrong?" Belle asks quietly, even now somehow sensing his distress right after it rises.

"Sweetheart, if we would ever be together like that, if you would let me... trying to make you feel like you would be making me feel would be the least I could do."

Before he remembers that he doesn't actually know how to accomplish that, the woman rolls off the man, causing him to slip out of her. Lying down at his side, she takes his hand and moves it towards her, requesting him to touch her after all.

Rumplestiltskin is breathless when the woman spreads her legs and guides the man's hand between them, the shot without doubt the most explicit one of the woman's body so far. Especially after the considerably less clearer shots early on, he couldn't have hoped for anything more helpful than this.

Breathing heavily and the throbbing in his length becoming almost unbearable, he commits as much of the scene to memory as he can. He pays particular attention to the exact places where the man puts his fingers, and the patterns and speed with which he pleasures the woman.

Belle is whimpering next to him, but her damp, almost painfully tight grip on his equally sweaty hand reminds her very clearly why he is doing this. It helps him to focus on the television rather than on her, so he might learn to touch her like this one day.

His True Love relaxes somewhat when the woman on the screen has found her peak after a number of soundless pants and one more outdrawn moan, but Rumplestiltskin finds that the most enjoyable part for him is yet to come.

The woman on the screen pulls the man on top of her, never letting go of his hand. Realizing what is about to happen, he is too far gone to take note of how the man aligns himself and easily enters the woman's body, who accepts him with another needy gasp.

Rumplestiltskin has to suppress the sudden urge to relieve the tension at the front of his trousers right there and then when the man begins to thrust into the woman once more. Despite the actor's infuriating quietness, he's clearly about to reach his own climax as well.

He is somewhat aware that Belle looks intently at him, but he can only stare at the screen where the man's efforts are met by ever enthusiastic reactions from the woman, her arms and her legs wrapping around him to urge him on.

Rumplestiltskin recognizes this as the part that Belle was watching when he arrived unexpectedly. No matter how unlikely it seemed to him only such a short while ago, he is currently enjoying the movie at least as much as she was then... and he still is.

The last part is a bit of a let-down. The man's completion is only signaled by his contented sigh when he lowers himself into the woman's embrace, lovingly kissing her neck. There's no way that Rumplestiltskin would be able to remain nearly as quiet if Belle and he were to share something like that, but maybe it's for the best that the scene ends in a somewhat underwhelming manner.

After all, he is quite desperate as it is, a heat and want he has never known before raging within him. Hence it's a relief when the next scene shows the couple fully clothed again, talking about one thing or another in the company of some others.

Pretending to be still entirely focused on the movie, Rumplestiltskin tries to regain some sort of control over himself. He closes his eyes in an attempt to will away his breathlessness and the sweat that has broken out all over his body, and most of all the most obvious indicator of his arousal.

Whatever conversation Belle has in mind when the movie is over, it'll be a lot easier to have when he can think of anything other than doing with her exactly what the man and the woman on the screen just did. Just because he is very much aware that he isn't nearly capable of that, doesn't mean he doesn't vividly imagine that he  _can_.

"So what do you think?"

Startled from his graphic thoughts, his eyes refocus on the once more black television screen. The movie must have ended without him noticing.

Turning to face Belle, he finds her yet considerably more flushed and restless than she was when he burst into the room earlier that afternoon.

"I..."

There's so much he wants to say, his inside just as overwhelmed as his outside, but some thoughts are bouncing somewhat clearly through his head.

More than trying out everything they have just witnessed on the screen, he wants to tell her that he couldn't possibly focus as much on her pleasure as the man in the movie did once they're touching, that there's no way that he'll last longer than a mere moment if he were to make love to her, let alone solely dedicate himself to bringing her release like the actor did, that he'd never be capable of being so damn  _quiet_ during the entire encounter, that he wouldn't be...

Those potentially voiced thoughts are gone as well when she glances down. Their hands still entwined, her eyes widen when they settle on his tented trousers.

He looks helplessly at her, having no idea what he can possibly do without making things incredibly awkward very, very fast. He may be barely past the point where he wouldn't want to be seen like this by Belle to begin with, but that makes this far from easy or comfortable.

Doing anything more than talking about what they just experienced together seems like a very bad idea to him. At the same time, still being in this state of obvious arousal appears to be an equally unfortunate start of any conversation, let alone one about such an important topic.

It doesn't get any easier in the slightest when Belle continues to stare at his lap. Her grip on his hand tightens again and she takes her lower lip between her teeth.

Without warning, she lets go of his hand after all eventually and scoots away from him without saying anything. Rumplestiltskin closes his eyes and braces himself, inwardly cursing himself for thinking that she wouldn't be upset when becoming aware of his lust for her. She may not have thought of him as a beast before, but that might as well have changed forever now.

"Rumple, look at me."

He does as Belle gently requests, as incapable as always to deny her anything. There's a sudden nervous edge to her voice, but her eyes are still dark with desire.

To his bewilderment, she settles herself against the armrest of the couch that is closest to her, kicking off her heels and putting her legs onto the seat, her lovely little feet brushing his thigh.

His confusion increases further, this time triggering panic as well, when she unzips her skirt.

"Belle, what are you..."

"Hush, Rumple. Just let me show you."

He can only stare at her like she requested. His mouth falls open and his breath becomes yet more labored when she pulls up her blouse, revealing her pale stomach.

He doesn't understand what she is doing when she places her hand flatly on the skin she just revealed. Subsequently, Belle slides it downwards slowly but surely, not stopping when her hand moves underneath the upper edge of the skirt she just unzipped.

Rumplestiltskin watches her questioning fingers delve underneath two layers of thin fabric that must be her pantyhose and panties. His heart all but gives out when it finally dawns on him what his True Love intends to do.

Gazing up to look him straight in the eyes, Belle purposefully slides her fingers between her legs.


	3. Chapter 3

Almost hyperventilating, Rumplestiltskin can't help but stare at the sight in front of him whether he would like to or not. He didn't want to witness anything like this in the past – not because he didn't  _want_ to, never that, but because he  _shouldn't._ He'll probably come to regret this soon enough, but right now he can only drink in the scene unfolding almost within his reach.

Belle's eyes are closed as her fingers quest between her legs, her blush spectacular. Despite her bold bravery, she appears to be at least as nervous as he is. But here she is regardless, seeking pleasure in his company, having found a highly inspiring compromise between his fear and her intent to explore their physical desire.

His True Love's touches seem experimental and his hardness only increases at the thought that this might be the first time that she explores herself like this, that he of all people is the one who has evoked that reaction from her.

That's certainly true in his case, as he never experienced anything nearly as arousing as watching her touch herself. Unlike her,  _he_  has always been timid and ugly and misfortunate - increasingly so throughout the years.

Such thoughts are forgotten however when she moans. Her mouth falls open in surprise and obvious pleasure when she appears to have found a spot of which he can only hope that he'll be able to find it himself, let alone touch it the way that pleases her like this.

Her eyes flutter open, dark with lust. He groans himself at the sight of it, digging his fingers in the upholstery of the couch in a mostly vain attempt to find something to hold on to.

"Rumple..."

He whimpers when she sighs his name, her eyes locked with his as she seems to establish a rhythm. He may not be able to see much of the actual act because her fingers and the part of herself that she's touching are still covered by several layers of fabric, but what he does see is more than enough to set him aflame.

Only when she visibly relaxes somewhat it dawns on him that she must have been tense before, that all of this probably goes completely against her upbringing in their own land. No matter how much of a free spirit she is, two decades of a conservative upbringing aren't easily cast aside. Never mind the fact that the most feared man of many a realm is sitting right next to her, watching her with possibly unnerving attention.

"Rumple, could you talk to me?"

"What... what do you want me to say, sweetheart?" he asks, his throat as tight as the rest of him. He'd love to do as she requests, but just breathing is challenging enough right now.

"Anything. I don't care. Just  _talk_ , please. I love the sound of your voice."

He groans again at that confession. It may be completely beyond him why she would be attracted to any aspect of him, but he finds that it's much easier than expected to grant her request once he starts simply by putting his love for her into words like he tries to do as often as he can anyway.

"You are so beautiful, darling. So brave. You have no idea what watching you like this is doing to me."

A particular flicker of her hand has her keening and throwing back her head against the armrest of the couch. He almost comes undone right there and then at the sight, at the sounds she makes.

She tilts her head up to meet his gaze again, her usually so calm and gentle eyes aflame with urgency and fire.

"Keep talking to me,  _please_."

"I... I can only hope that I'll touch you like this one day, and that you'll find my attempts as enjoyable. I hope that you can teach me, that I may one day know your body like you know it yourself... and that you get to know my body like that as well."

He continues to talk, somewhat aware that he's becoming more and more nonsensical – and explicit – as her movements become frantic.

The sheen of sweat on her face and collarbone is becoming a small stream at some places, dripping down her cheeks and chest and dampening her hair when she exerts herself to find release. He has never seen anything as arousing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he urges her on, like it is his own pleasure she is seeking as much as her own.

"I am... trying..."

She shifts on the couch, bracing one of her feet flat on the seat as her fingers continue to move rapidly between her legs, her hips arching off the surface. Something changes then, something in the rhythm of her breath and fingers, the way her muscles clench beneath her tight, see-through pantyhose.

"I think it's happening, Rumple, I'm..."

Her voice falters, but her hand moves quicker than ever before as she lifts her hips further off the couch, rolling them against her hand.

"You can do it, sweetheart. Just... let it happen."

Belle is moaning continually now, her head thrashing against the armrest and her eyes tightly closed. Her movements become less controlled and focused, the increased motion of her hand forcing down the elastic waistband of her panties every once in a few strokes, revealing an inch or so of skin with tantalizing dark curls.

"Yes... yes,  _yes_..."

Not aware of what he's saying any longer, he encourages her with increasing loudness, his eyes almost crossing and his length aching at the extraordinary display.

" _RUMPLE!"_

There is no mistaking the exact moment that Belle finds her release, crying out for him when she collapses back onto the couch, her limbs trembling. His mouth falls open at the beauty of her, not to mention the fact that she called out his name in the throes of her pleasure.

There appears a disbelieving smile on her face, which fades quickly when a slight, possibly unintended movement of her fingers has her gasping again.

Feeling as if this miracle simply doesn't end, Rumplestiltskin watches with ever so strong desire and curiosity when her slow touches have her gasping and jerking once more. Her body seems yet more sensitive than it was a few moments before.

A long breathless moment later, she fully relaxes and chuckles, making herself comfortable in her current position. He can't help but notice that her fingers are coated in her moisture when she withdraws her hand and lays it on her still bare, damp stomach.

Her eyes are looking directly into his as soon as she opens them again. He grunts quietly at the sheer satisfaction he sees in them, at the knowledge that he had a part in this, however minor.

She doesn't speak, but nothing she could have possibly said could have had the impact that her gaze does when she meaningfully directs it at the ever present bulge in his trousers.

Swallowing heavily in understanding of what she wants him to do – of what he very much wants to do himself as well – Rumplestiltskin hesitates only for a moment before he carelessly toes off his previously impeccable shoes.

He's very much aware that he can't put his legs on the couch nearly as effortlessly as Belle did, but that doesn't matter all that much when she watches him with almost tangible anticipation.

Breathing heavily, he tries not to think too much of what's ahead of him, of the pleasure that's awaiting him and the very large chance that she'll be watching him the whole time. Still, he eagerly makes himself comfortable, the purposeful brush of her toes against his calf already having him hissing.

His hands are trembling when he unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers. Rumplestiltskin is grateful that he can follow her example by keeping his trousers and boxer shorts on, not quite ready yet for her to see the part of him for which he fears her reaction more than for any other aspect of his highly imperfect body.

Never having had both the desire and the self-granted permission to lose control like this, he isn't quite certain where to start. Well, it's very obvious  _where_  he should start - he just doesn't know how.

It's not just that he lacks Belle's bravery to delve right in, as it were, like she just did. He fears that any direct touch is too much right now; he wouldn't want her to be any less impressed by him than that she's in all likelihood already going to be when everything is said and done.

Pointedly closing his eyes so he won't be able to see his True Love watching him intently, he slides slightly further down the couch to get more comfortable and tentatively cups himself through his trousers and boxers.

He groans loudly despite the lightness of the touch, the gentle pressure through the cloth sending him reeling already. The effect is pleasurable to say the least, but to a somewhat manageable extent, which makes it considerably easier to repeat the touch.

Massaging himself lightly, he manages to focus on the enjoyment that the act provides rather than what Belle might be thinking – or not – when seeing him like this. He establishes a gentle rhythm, just rubbing himself through his clothing, gasping and grunting all the while, his hips bucking.

Rumplestiltskin was determined to last, both to enjoy the experience for as long as possible and to attempt to compare not too poorly to the actor in the film. Still, it comes as no surprise that the ending is beckoning already and, well, he has always been a weak man.

Despite his body's demands taking over entirely, he opens his eyes briefly and with considerable difficulty. He finds his slack-jawed True Love staring at him with glassy eyes, her attention solely focused on the movements of his hand.

Unable to hold back any longer at her complete lack of loathing or disappointment, he moves his hand underneath the waistband of his boxers. He cries out at the sparks that spread to every ending of his nerve system when he takes himself in hand.

Long-denied instincts finally taking over, he strokes himself experimentally, spreading the moisture that's gathering at his tip. His hips thrust with a rhythm of their own and his feet blindly seek purchase on the couch at the onslaught of sensations.

His still rapidly building pleasure has him panting and sweating, pleading nonsensically and calling out for Belle as he quickens his pace. Despite the vague awareness that whatever is developing within him is so powerful that he has no idea how to handle it, all he can do is reach the ending point as quickly as possible.

He can't hold back the urge to continue looking at her. His desire only further increases when she clenches her fists, her chest heaving and her eyes unblinking.

It's beyond terrifying to have her eyes on him during this unfamiliar, thoroughly uncontrolled and highly personal process. Still, it's not nearly as scary as the prospect of having her own hands on him, the chance of accidentally disturbing or disgusting her only larger that way.

Discovering that she for some reason  _likes_ to see him this way, a few more, desperate tugs have him spurting over his hand. The strength of his release shaking him to his very core, he falters and falls limply back against the couch, all control over his body gone.

He is jerking helplessly, intuitively continuing to stroke himself to the best of his abilities for a while longer to prolong the unequaled sensations, to lose himself in a wild ocean of bliss.

Rumplestiltskin is still shaking by the time he manages to open his eyes again, his body lighter and warmer than it has ever been. Belle is still looking at him, bright-eyed and smiling broadly.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

" _Incredible_ ," he replies, hoping that it suffices for now to let her know how much he enjoyed this... that none of it would have been possible without her acceptance and encouragement.

"Good," she says, her smile widening yet further. "I feel pretty amazing, myself."

He nods in mesmerized acknowledgment, blown away yet more by the reminder that she enjoyed this as much as he did himself.

"I'm so glad we did this," she breathes, sitting up from her position on the other edge of the couch with some difficulty, her legs to his delight still trembling.

"I'm glad as well. Very glad," he says, in retrospect not seeing at all why he was so afraid of this, why he doubted that the two of them would find a way, like they somehow always do.

Even when he glances down himself and takes in the sweat-soaked state of his clothes and the tell-tale damp spot at the front of his boxers, there's nothing but relief and joy because of what they just shared.

He withdraws his hand with the intention of pushing himself back in a sitting position as well, only then realizing that his fingers are covered with the evidence of his release.

"Oh, I..."

He has the presence of mind to think of the pocket square in his suit jacket, but Belle lightly takes hold of his free hand before he can retrieve it.

"Uhm, Rumple, could I..."

She falters, but the eagerness visible in her eyes before she lowers her gaze in sudden coyness tells her exactly what she for some unknown, impossible reason likes to do.

"You want to...?!"

"Would you mind?"

"No, but..."

"I've... wondered. What you might taste like. Can I..."

He nods, bewildered, not believing his own senses when she takes hold of his other hand, guiding it towards her mouth... when she opens her wet, sweet lips to slide his messy index finger between them. She groans when her tongue swirls around the blessed digit, and so does he.

Rumplestiltskin can only stare once more when his True Love purposefully seeks his taste, somehow  _enjoying_  it rather than being wary of it at the very least. That wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest, not even after what they just experienced together.

For as far as he hasn't entirely done so already, he loses himself just a bit more at the sight and feeling of Belle sucking and licking his seed off his fingers like it's the most normal thing in the world.

She looks up at him when she takes his thumb into her mouth, smiling gently at him when her cheeks hollow. His throat goes dry at the sight of it, at the unbidden mental image of her giving another part of his body this treatment.

And then he remembers  _her_  sticky fingers.

"Sweetheart, could I..."

He gestures weakly at her hand, not entirely convinced that she'll be comfortable letting him return the favor. But her smile only widens when she brings her fingers to his face, her expression turning into one of sheer enjoyment when he eagerly closes his lips around her.

Rumplestiltskin groans at the taste of her filling his mouth, at the way her eyes flutter closed when he laves his tongue around the digit. He kisses all the fingers on her right hand like that, and does the same to her left hand. Each nip and lick makes him less inclined to let go of her once he has paid particular attention to her left pinkie.

It seems almost ridiculous that he was until so very recently afraid to initiate this kind of contact when he takes hold of her wrist and guides it back to her side, only to put his hand on her waist once it's almost there, pulling her towards him.

There is no questioning whether she would want this when she crushes her mouth against his in response to his silent invitation. She immediately opens up, encouraging his tongue to venture between her lips.

He may have very much enjoyed licking the evidence of her arousal off her skin, but there's no comparing that to experiencing her taste mixing with what must be the remnant of his own when they kiss. She whimpers into his mouth, driving him only wilder.

If it weren't for the fact that he just witnessed it himself, it would be difficult to believe that Belle had just reached her peak. She kisses him with a ferocity that would have surprised him in any situation, let alone right now.

Rather than being taken aback – or indeed, rather than his body behaving like it just experienced a highly irregular and extraordinarily powerful climax of its own – he slides his hands hungrily down her body, exploring her like he never dreamed of doing.

Rumplestiltskin growls into her mouth when feeling the curve from her sides to her thighs like this for the very first time. He's only spurred on further when she matter-of-factly grabs his backside in reaction and somehow manages to deepen their kiss.

The lack of air in his lungs doesn't prevent him from all but permanently attaching his mouth to her neck, eagerly kissing and licking her delicate skin while both of them take in some much needed oxygen.

Being with her like this is so much easier than he thought it would be, his body and mind afloat rather than drowning in delight. He marvels at how well all of this is going, that nothing he does is met with disgust or even dislike and that he isn't nearly to the point of losing control over his body when she's actually touching him.

Then again, he isn't so certain about that any longer when Belle's kisses become more demanding, her touches more urgent. Before he knows it, she is grinding herself against his thigh, practically burying her teeth into his neck as she mewls against his skin.

"Rumple, I want... I want to..."

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he manages to ask while she presses her chest more firmly against his, her breasts so very soft against him.

It's not that he would want this to end right here and now simply so that he can tell himself that their first attempt at intimacy hasn't become a huge failure after all, but her request makes him rather nervous regardless.

" _Touch me_."

To emphasize her insistent demand, she takes his hand and moves it under her skirt without ado. Rumplestiltskin gulps when she presses his hand between her thighs, his palm encountering a damp heat that will fill his dreams for the rest of his life.

"Will you...?"

"Yes,  _yes,"_ he nods against the crook of her neck and shoulders, all his usual doubts and uncertainties forgotten once more at the undeniable need in her voice.

Their mutual enthusiasm doesn't change the fact that they're currently in a precarious balance on their knees on the far from stable surface of the couch. That position is difficult enough to maintain without the distraction of the whereabouts of his right hand.

Belle finds a solution before his mind can come to a halt after all. Looking at him with a broad smile and ever radiant and trusting eyes, she lies down on the couch like before, her head pillowed on the nearest armrest.

Beckoned with a gesture that would have caused a full-blown panic attack before this afternoon, Rumplestiltskin takes a deep breath and leans over his True Love.


	4. Chapter 4

It hardly comes as a surprise to Rumplestiltskin that he can't quite find a way to settle near Belle which allows him to touch her in what he hopes will be a satisfactory manner, let alone one that isn't impossible to maintain for his once more aging and damaged body.

"Lie down next to me?" she quietly suggests while she gestures at the limited space between herself and the back of the couch. For some reason she's still smiling in a manner that's fond rather than exasperated... or worse.

He does as she proposes while Belle shifts to the edge of the couch. It turns out that he fits perfectly between her and the back of the couch if he lies down on his side... that this, in fact, brings him wonderfully close to her.

His head is propped up on his left arm, his right hand hovering above her front. Rather than hesitating, he simply rests his palm on her stomach, basking in the warmth of her bare skin.

Knowing very well that she, miraculously, meant for him to explore more of her than just this part of her when she asked him to touch her, Rumplestiltskin carefully moves his hand upwards. Wanting to see her face, he leans over her as far as their position allows him.

Both of them gasp when his fingers brush the swell of her still covered chest, their eyes locking for a moment. Seeing the joy in her gaze, the anticipation, is all he needs to be persuaded to move his hand yet slightly higher, sliding his palm over her breast.

Her breath hitches in her throat at the contact, and so does his again. For a moment they just stare at each other, her joy tangible because of her rapidly beating heart almost right beneath his hand, the way she pushes herself further into his palm.

No matter how beautiful her eyes are, no matter the extent to which he is lost in that endless blue, Rumplestiltskin ends up glancing down her body, his gaze settling on his undeserving hand as it cups her breast.

"Touch me," she breathes again.

More than the words themselves, it's her tone and her bright smile that inform him that his ears aren't deceiving him.

Although he is still wary to say the least at the prospect of touching her in any way, let alone in one as intimate as this, he applies careful pressure to the mound of softness in his hand, watching her reaction closely.

When Belle moans quietly and closes her eyes, her smile widening, he repeats the motion, slightly increasing the pressure. Her smile fades in response, but the louder, still undeniably approving sound that he evokes from her instead tells him not to stop.

Before Rumplestiltskin knows it, he is kneading her breast with increasing confidence, watching his True Love with wide, still disbelieving eyes as she writhes and groans at his side. It's yet more incredible to him that her peaks harden underneath his palm and fingertips.

Despite the distraction that the impossibly glorious sight and feeling of her provides, it doesn't escape his attention that only one half of her chest receives the attention he would like to bestow on it. His brain turning out to be still somewhat functional, he applies himself to the first solution that comes to mind.

He may be unable to put his left hand to proper use without losing his balance, but he finds that it isn't all that difficult to lower his face to her currently neglected breast without collapsing on top of her. Rather than using his hand, he nudges her with his nose, grunting against the fabric separating them at the new sensation.

Belle stills beneath him and he moves back as quickly as he can to gauge her expression, afraid that he has done something too forward or unappealing in his desire to please her more. Rather than shock or disgust, her expression is one of surprised delight that even he can't misinterpret.

"Go on," she whispers, and he does just that.

Too focused on maintaining the movements as such to pay particular attention to how she vocalizes her enjoyment, Rumplestiltskin decides to continue touching her for as long as she sounds the way she does now, breathless and eager as his face is moving along her chest.

Inflamed beyond reason by her response, he finds himself impulsively closing his mouth around the hardened peak that's nearest to him. There may be fabric between them, but that doesn't take away any of the terrifying truth of it, or any of the overwhelming joy for that matter.

He almost wishes that it did, for there is no way he can focus on what particular touches she likes and doesn't like. Then again, it doesn't seem to matter all that much, for she seems to react equally enthusiastically to anything he does.

One of her hands fists in his hair, keeping him right where he is as if she fears he has any wish to cease his current efforts. Indeed, all he can do is burrow his face into her chest, suckling at her breast through her blouse and bra as he continues to massage the other with a trembling hand.

"Yes, Rumple,  _yes_..."

Slightly getting used to the apparent fact that his True Love reacts to him like this, he gradually acquires the concentration required to pay attention to her most enthusiastic reactions. His discovery that she cries out yet louder and  _writhes_  beneath them when he accidentally closed his mouth around her a bit too enthusiastically may have been an accidental one, but the same most certainly can't be said for the revelation that she likes him to squeeze her breast between his fingers considerably less gently than he might have expected.

He probably would have gone on like that for a very long time if it weren't for the insistent hand tugging at his hair eventually. When he looks up at her with concern, the heat in her eyes tells him exactly why she wanted him to stop what he was doing.

Swallowing heavily, Rumplestiltskin glances down her body, her thighs as far spread as the skirt she's still wearing allows her.

"Go on," she breathes when he reaches for the hem of her skirt.

It's clear even to him that she's talking about moving back up on the other side of the fabric rather than continuing his exploration down her body.

Practically holding his breath by then, Rumplestiltskin slides his hand underneath her loosened skirt, along the incredible softness of her thigh. He takes his time not only because this touch all but melts his brain, but also because of the realization that this is happening after all - and that it isn't going nearly as badly so far as he was convinced it would.

No matter how much he would like to follow the progress of his hand up her thigh underneath her skirt, he keeps his eyes solely on her face. Despite his eagerness to focus on the beauty of her radiant eyes and smile, both yet more astonishing than usual because of the delight that he somehow causes, he is highly alert for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

Her smile only widens however and her blue eyes become brighter as he continues his journey to the apex of her thighs. Because of her almost exaggerated nod just before he reaches his destination, he is further convinced that she truly wants this.

They gasp in unison when his questioning fingers brush against the damp material of her panties. Tentatively, he runs reverent fingertips along the fabric, exploring his True Love in a whole new way. To his relief and increasing pride, his touches are met with nothing but breathless sighs and moans.

Not allowing himself to marvel at the increasing wetness of the fabric or the incredible warmth of her, he tries to bring some sort of purpose to his touches, to find out what pleases her most. It's both a blessing and a frustration however that just about every careful nudge and caress has her moaning.

She doesn't object to his experimental touch though, doesn't urge him to evoke the pleasure he fully intends to bring her, despite not quite knowing yet  _how._ So Rumplestiltskin continues to touch her with ever careful yet purposeful fingers, hoping with all his might to find out.

But her soft noises of enjoyment are as distractive as they are beautiful and he just doesn't know how to proceed without disappointing her... not without her help, anyway.

"Sweetheart, how would you like me to touch you?"

He reminds himself that the fact he dares to ask this in the first place shows just how far they have come already after all... and so does the discovery that he doesn't simply pass out when she matter-of-factly takes his hand and guides it between her legs, inside her underwear, along the same path that her own fingers just took.

Just because his system doesn't entirely shut down doesn't mean that he is unaffected by feeling her dampness and heat directly – far from it. Initially hardly daring to move his fingers, Rumplestiltskin stares at Belle while he touches her in a way he often believed he never would.

For just a moment not allowing himself to worry about what he is touching exactly and how he might drive her to the same heights of pleasure as she just did herself, he just keeps his hand very still as he takes in the unequaled sensations of feeling the evidence of the arousal he miraculously causes.

She doesn't keep nearly as still, though. Although her movements are minimal, each tiny shift and each slight twitch of her causes his fingertips to press against her ever so differently, each and every small change taking his breath away.

"Let me feel you, Rumple?"

He takes her almost timid tone as an invitation to get both of them slightly used to the extraordinary feel of this rather than to try to bring her to completion straight away.

"Yes," he manages, his voice awfully hoarse to his own ears. He may be glad with her suggestion, but the prospect of touching her any more than he is doing now is as exhilarating as it is terrifying.

But no matter what his mind is telling him, his body has a mind of its own, more than eager to take the chance that is presenting itself. With her explicit permission granted, his fingers begin to shift almost on their own accord, exploring her like this for the very first time.

Never losing only slightly awareness of her eyes on him, or even looking away from them, Rumplestiltskin forces himself to  _breathe_ when his tentative fingers find different textures of skin, soft hair and ever more moisture.

Belle smiles at him, silently encouraging him to increase the pressure somewhat, to expand the part of her that he is getting to know like this. Finding further courage in her soft moans and fluttering eyelids, in the scent of her arousal reaching him, he basks in her acceptance of his touch, in her eagerness to have his hand on her in such a way.

Like he did before, Rumplestiltskin seeks the places that give her the most pleasure when being touched. That task is yet more challenging however now that there is nothing separating their bodies any longer. Her reactions are considerably louder, but not more diverse than when he touched her through her panties, whereas the lack of that absorbing fabric makes it yet more difficult for him to determine what part of the slippery paradise he is touching exactly.

Not allowing himself to think that he still doesn't know where he should be touching her or even where precisely he is putting his fingers right now, her trust in him allows him to remain mostly calm, to simply continue to explore her, slightly more boldly than before.

His efforts are rewarded a moment later with a sharp intake of breath and a moan considerably louder than before. Inwardly sighing in relief even as something inside of him tightens with the awareness of what has just happened, he repeats the motion.

Brushing his fingers over the same part of her as before, she practically hisses in obvious pleasure. Her hips tighten around his hand and he watches in awe when her face contorts with delight as he repeats the touch again.

"Yes, _Rumple_..."

Just when he begins to imagine bringing her to her peak like this, she shifts underneath him, insistently pushing her hips more firmly against his hand. He very much appreciates her silent request for more, but his fingers turn out to have lost their touch, as it were.

He delves more deeply between her legs, causing her to moan throatily, but not quite as needy as she did before. His exploration may be bolder than earlier, but to his growing despair he can't find the spot that had her crying out for him a mere moment ago among her slippery folds.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmurs, rarely having felt more like a failure than now that he ruins the very generous chance that she gave him after all. "I can't."

Rumplestiltskin doesn't allow himself to wonder whether this would be any easier if he were to see what he is doing, or even if her skirt wouldn't restrict the angle of his hand. She just did this herself in almost exactly the same way after all, she  _showed_ him, just like she shared the equally instructive movie with him... and it turns out that he can't even properly pleasure her now that he has all the knowledge he always supposed to need to succeed in this essential endeavor.

"Of course you can," she mutters, grasping his hand before he can withdraw it like he planned to, intending to have taken it off her before she has to say that she doesn't want the touch of his useless, undeserving fingers any longer.

She repositions his hand, bringing it more firmly against her than he would have done on his own accord.

"Just  _move_ ," she pants, as if she, despite everything – despite  _him –_ is still very much aroused.

Bewildered, he does as he is told, intuitively rubbing his fingers along her burning wetness like he did before. Thanks to the change in angle she provided, he again finds the spot that has her arching and groaning.

Still, no matter how much he tries, his hand is shaking and she's  _soaked_ and he can't...

"Doesn't matter," Belle moans, somehow aware of his frustration despite her closed eyes and shimmering pleasure. "Just... just continue touching me like this. Just  _go on_."

Barely able to think, he does as she asks, stubbornly rubbing her folds. Despite the artless technique that seems rather brutish to him to boot, the volume and pitch of her cries is increasing, her hips moving more urgently against his hand.

" _Yes,_ Rumple,  _please_..."

He may be willing to move heaven and earth for her at any time, let alone when she cries out for him like this. But no matter how much he would like it to be otherwise, he can't do more than what he is already doing, knowing better than to try to add dark magic to compensate for his failings.

Still, she seems to be spiraling only higher under his desperate, unrefined attempts, her hold on the leather underneath her visibly tightening.

"Faster..."

Panting and perspiring with the effort, Rumplestiltskin is thoroughly grateful that she asks for about the only thing he can still do for her. Increasing his efforts, her wetness coating just about everything by now making it yet more difficult to steer his fingers, he ends up blindly rubbing her as rapidly as he can.

"Sweetheart, please,  _come on_..."

He loathes himself for pushing her like this, but he wants this, he  _needs_ this, for her sake as well as his own. He has to prove to both of them – probably more to himself than to her – that he can  _do_ this, that he can satisfy her in a way that won't make her see after all that she doesn't deserve him.

"Talk... talk to me," she gasps, reminding him of her earlier, still mind-blowing explanation that she likes the sound of his voice... that it  _arouses_ her.

He has no idea what he is saying to her even as the words tumble out of his mouth, but it's unmistakable that the sound of his voice further spurs her on.

In a bout of sudden inspiration, somewhere between the words 'magnificent' and 'beautiful', he manages to lower his head without ceasing the movements of his hand. Her chest right beneath him, the fabric of her bra and blouse still wet and partially see-through from his earlier ministrations, he closes his mouth around the top of her left breast once more, running his tongue over her.

Vaguely recalling that she liked to be touched there more roughly than he ever would have thought, Rumplestiltskin bites as hard as he dares, evoking a shrill, ever encouraging scream from her. He too doesn't hold back his joy when Belle grasps a handful of his hair, crying out his name again.

Her speech becomes unintelligible, but her tone and urgently moving hips leave no doubt whatsoever that she is reaching the point where he has been striving to bring her after all. It's a good thing that his ever determined hand is moving on its own accord, for Rumplestiltskin can only stare with open mouth from his vantage point as his True Love throws her head back and tenses beneath him,  _shrieking_.

Drinking in the sight of her pleasure with mesmerized awe, he never ceases the movement of either his mouth or his hand while he marvels at the beauty of her finding release and at the knowledge that he got her into this state.

Belle relaxes after an almost endless moment, her body lying limply on the couch. Her eyes opening slowly and her lashes fluttering decadently, she bestows the most radiant smile he has ever seen on him. She is positively  _sated_ and Rumplestiltskin shivers at the increasing awareness that  _he_ did this, that against all his expectations he succeeded in pleasuring her.

His hand lingers at her mound, wanting to enjoy the extraordinary feeling of it for as long as possible. Touching her softly with a careful, curious middle finger, she gasps and arches beneath him once again.

Finding out for himself how sensitive her body still is, he gently continues to touch her, watching in awed delight when pleasure visibly shoots through her again, causing her to moan quietly and tilt her head backwards.

Rumplestiltskin goes on until the aftershocks have passed and she finally lies still once more, her chest heaving lightly and his ever eager fingers resting between her legs. His body relaxing along with hers, he smiles happily when he rests his head on her chest, reveling in her caresses of his hair while she holds him, both of them utterly satisfied.


	5. Chapter 5

It's a long time until either of them rouses again. Rumplestiltskin doesn't mind in the slightest, this peaceful quietness almost just as enjoyable to him as the physical bliss they just experienced together. Eventually, he shifts so that he can look at Belle when she whispers his name.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm happy," she just says, the way she looks at him leaving no doubt that  _he_ is the reason she's in such a very good mood.

"I'm happy, too," he replies. No matter how difficult it would have been for him to believe before this afternoon, it seems that there was nothing to fear after all with regards to their – as it turned out - very mutual desire for each other. "I must admit that I'm relieved as well."

"I'm too," she says, trailing her fingertips down his cheek.

As always, Rumplestiltskin greedily leans in to her touch, enjoying it only more than he usually would now that he has seen that her longing for him miraculously runs as deep and wild as his for her.

"You are?"

"I definitely am. I knew it was difficult for you to talk about this, and I could barely imagine us  _doing_ anything. I very much wanted to, but I didn't know what I wanted exactly, or how to talk about it with you. And look at us now."

"Indeed," he mutters, leaning up to brush his lips gratefully against hers.

The chaste kiss is one of the few physical intimacies that they did indulge in before, but the contact isn't any less magical now that they've just experienced so much more than that. If anything, the gentle, brief kiss is only better now that there's no more fearing what might come next.

Belle smiles broadly when he slightly pulls back, and so does he.

"I'm so happy, Rumple," she breathes, lovingly running her hand through his hair.

Her enthusiasm is infectious. Before he can help himself, Rumplestiltskin laughs out loud in relieved joy, at the highly unexpected and thoroughly pleasurable way that months of worries and insecurities just came to an end. Belle joins him, the beautiful sound of her laugher mixing with his lower chuckle.

"I'm almost glad that it took us so long," she says, her fingers finding their way to the nape of his neck, "if that meant that both of us could enjoy it so much."

"Yes. And I'm very glad that... well, that you're still here."

"You don't really believe that anything would have changed between us if our first time properly touching each other hadn't gone this well, do you?"

Despite her alarmed tone, Rumplestiltskin can only nod in confirmation.

"Please don't ever think that," she whispers, caressing his face in that tender way of hers that he loves so much, no matter how undeserved it is. "Also not for whatever comes next. This is unfamiliar for both of us. We're allowed to make mistakes, Rumple. They won't matter, just as long as we're open and honest with each other."

He nods. Although he does so more in understanding than in agreement, he feels yet better about this than he already did.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he sighs contently, reverently brushing his nose along her collarbone.

"Please don't feel like you have to thank me," she replies fondly. "I think it's obvious that we're both grateful for what just happened. Although I suppose, considering our history, that it's a good thing to share it like this."

"Just... thank you so much, for everything. For being  _you_."

"In that case, I want to thank  _you_ for being you as well. Being with you is everything I could have hoped for."

Rumplestiltskin manages not to give in to the urge to question her feelings for a man like himself, but only barely so. Instead, he just shakes his head, smiling at her in disbelief.

"You'll never cease to amaze me, sweetheart."

"Just like you never stop surprising me," she says, the undeniable love in her eyes making it impossible even for him to interpret her words as anything but a heartfelt compliment.

"Let's get more comfortable," he suggests, becoming aware that he's still lying half on top of her.

Belle nods in agreement, getting up and helping him to do the same. Like always, she doesn't comment on the fact that she can move her body much more easily than he can move his.

He ends up sitting on the couch as he regularly would. Like she does so very often, his True Love is keen on changing the situation into something far from ordinary. With an ever bright smile she clambers onto his lap, casually hiking up her skirt as she does so to accommodate their renewed closeness.

Rumplestiltskin closes his eyes in utter contentment when he leans back against the couch with Belle resting in his arms against his chest, still boneless with the pleasure he managed to bring her.

Wrapping his arms around her, he caresses her back with lazy strokes, basking in her nearness, especially when she snuggles closer to him and presses drawn out kisses against his neck.

"I love you," she whispers in the perfect quietness between them, "so very much."

"I love you, too," he breathes, the words sounding more real than ever before now that he has found that he can do this right... now that she still declares her love for him after he has touched her so intimately, bringing her the opposite of the disappointment he had always feared and expected in such a scenario.

She leans into him, angling her head, and Rumplestiltskin happily closes his eyes and accepts her kiss. After just pressing her lips lightly against his for a moment, she sucks lightly on his lower lip, drawing a moan from him like she always does.

Opening his mouth to invite her tongue between his lips, he sighs in delight when they settle into a deep, slow kiss, her arms locking behind his neck and his hands sliding gently over her sides. For the very first time he is kissing her without fear of either losing control or for Belle to do things in the heat of the moment that she'll come to regret later.

She gasps her appreciation into his mouth and he marvels at the wonderfulness of this, at the  _ease_ of it all. It seems increasingly ridiculous that he didn't have this faith all along.

His True Love is pressed more tightly against him than she has ever been before, but Rumplestiltskin is past the point of worrying whether she would truly want that. He's completely in love with a woman who loves him back the same way. He's more happy than he's ever been in his life, happier than he ever thought he could possibly be, and he isn't going to question that any longer.

Indeed, he's going to indulge himself now that this opportunity has presented itself... or rather, now that Belle has proven that there's no need at all to be concerned about the ardent nature of their desire for each other.

Never breaking the kiss, he slides his hands up and down her body, taking his sweet time exploring the curves he never dared touch before. She seems to follow the same line of thought, for after a few blissful minutes she trails her lips along his neck, beginning to explore that particular part of him for the first time.

Grunting at the sensation of her wet, hot mouth against the surprisingly sensitive skin there, he is eager to say the least to do some more exploration of his own. Carefully brushing her lush curls aside, he brushes his face along the elegant column of her neck, just breathing her in for a moment before he starts mouthing at her flawless skin there.

Belle hums in approval, her hands finding their way back into his hair to encourage him to continue. More than happy to oblige, he puts his tongue, lips and even teeth to good use.

When he finds a spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder that has her crying out in delight, he focuses all his attention on that inch of skin and the rapidly pulsing vein beneath, never getting enough of lavishing her.

Generous as always, Belle doesn't simply hold still to enjoy his ministrations. Seemingly determined to find out whether she can evoke the same reaction in him, her mouth questions at his own neck and throat.

Soon enough, he cries out when the pleasure humming throughout his body suddenly intensifies. He can all but feel her triumphant smile against his skin, only adding to his joy, before she starts to pursue this new discovery in earnest.

This new exploration starts out slowly and innocently enough – compared to what they just did, at the very least. But without him initially being aware of it, her touches become more insistent and increasingly urgent while she simultaneously rubs her breasts meaningfully against his chest.

When Belle giggles with something like pride, he realizes that he's twitching against her, his already determined hands on her hips guiding her against him in a gentle but undeniably rocking motion.

Apparently, his ever ungrateful body has decided that being shaken with ultimate pleasure to the very core once simply isn't going enough, never mind that hardly any time has passed since that blissful moment.

He breaks away from her for a moment, looking sheepishly at her. He has no idea what to say to her, whether he should be shocked and chagrined or not.

"Rumplestiltskin, will you let me touch you?"

For all her earlier boldness, Belle blushes and scoots slightly away from his growing interest. Still, he can't deny the eagerness written all over her when she pointedly looks down between them, which also leaves no room for doubt whatsoever where exactly she intends to touch him.

"I would love to, sweetheart, but... I'm not a young man anymore, and I never was very... virile. I didn't even know this could happen to me, let alone at this age."

"What are you talking about?!"

"What I'm trying to say is..." The lump in his throat is back again, and so is the heat in his cheeks, although for a whole different reason than most recently. Of course, with everything between them going so well until now there was simply  _bound_ to happen something to embarrass him after all. "A man can't...  _I_ can't, twice in a row. I don't think I'm ready again. I'd love for you to touch me, but I wouldn't want you to be disappointed or think that you do something wrong when it... doesn't lead to anything, simply because my body is... well, the way it is."

"You're talking about your refractory period," she exclaims, eyes brightening in understanding.

"I suppose... I do, yes."

He wouldn't have referred to it as such himself, but it turns out that this too is a subject that hasn't escaped Belle's attention in her initial research. Still, it's not entirely a relief that she knows about this already... he dreads to think how he might compare to the averages and norms that she has probably read about.

He doesn't know anything about such statistics himself, but Rumplestiltskin doesn't doubt that he falls short – in every sense of the word – of whatever she might have learned from her books.

"Well, it  _has_ been a while since you..." Her blush deepens as she pointedly looks down at his lap, the stain that his seed left on his boxers only barely covered by his still unzipped trousers. 

"I don't know how long it has been," he admits, time having lost its meaning when he pleasured her and when they rested and shared tender kisses afterwards. "It's just that I never thought that I might want to... twice. I especially hadn't expected that the chance would actually occur."

"Is there a reason you wouldn't like me to touch you... for us to discover together what might happen if I do?"

He looks at Belle with never ending marvel and disbelief, wondering how someone can possibly be this understanding and loving… how she can possibly be wanting to do this with  _him._

Despite the lingering fear that anything new they try might lead to mortification and disaster after all, he can only shake his head in denial at her question.

"No, there's no such reason," he says, fearing that the sound of his once more wildly beating heart exceeds that of his voice.

Belle bestows another radiant smile on him, the expression seemingly yet more impossible now that he's once more on the verge of potentially letting her down considerably.

Still, by now he knows better than to truly think that. Eager anticipation is thus the main sentiment going through Rumplestiltskin when his True Love slowly but very purposefully moves her hand between their bodies.

Gasping and shuddering long before she has miraculously touched him where she is going to, he can only stare from her hand to her face and back again when she reaches between them.

He  _grunts,_ his eyes presumably rolling back in his head when she tentatively cups his half-hard length for the very first time, the sensations of that single touch through his boxers surpassing everything he has ever experienced.

"Are you all right?" she asks with worry, withdrawing her hand immediately.

"Yes," he manages to bring out, "yes, but please,  _touch me_."

"I will, until you ask me to stop," she replies, her statement both a promise and a reassurance. As it has done again and again this afternoon, that combination of understanding and temptation only arouses him more.

Rumplestiltskin is slightly more prepared than earlier when she touches him again, yet more tenderly than before, but he's hardly more capable of reigning in his reaction. Closing his eyes so the sight of her small hand on him won't drive him yet more out of control, he digs his fingers into the leather of the upholstery beneath him in an equally vain attempt to find something to hold on to as overwhelming pleasure sweeps over him once more.

Panting and bucking, there's no opportunity to be aware of anything but the once more rapidly building desire when he returns to full hardness more quickly than he had thought possible.

Whining in a doubtlessly pitiful manner, he tries not to be swept away entirely by the pleasure coursing through him, wrecking havoc on any part of his body, whether it's currently being caressed by Belle or not.

Vaguely aware that she's crooning comforting words to him, Rumplestiltskin shakes so badly that he's surprised that he doesn't accidentally throw her off him. But like she's done countless times already, she unknowingly proves once more the strength and determination she's made of.

No matter how good his own touch felt when he finally allowed himself to experience it, if only because she encouraged it and there simply didn't seem to be any other way to deal with his practically painful arousal at the time, it's something else entirely to have her own hand on him.

Through the haze of bliss and the sounds drawn from his own lips, it takes him a while to realize that she's saying something to him. Only when she diminishes her touch, the feather-light caresses still driving him half mad, he becomes aware that she's trying to tell him something.

"Can I use my mouth?"

Rumplestiltskin brings out a probably rather hysterical sound in response to her matter-of-fact question.

"I won't insist if you don't want me to, of course not, but I'd really like to try it right now, if you'd like me to."

He knows better by now than to question her desire for him and the joy she finds in touching him, but... well, there's quite a difference between what she's currently doing and what she hopes to do next.

He can barely hold himself together now and he can only imagine how he might react when having her mouth on his straining length. Indeed, it's the no doubt mind-blowing consequences for himself that he fears, rather than how it might impact the love of his life to do something so extremely intimate for him.

And yet, Rumplestiltskin can only nod eagerly in response to her request, panting in anticipation. He's rather certain that she's going to kill him in a possibly not entirely metaphorical way... and that it'll be by far the most glorious moment of his life.


	6. Chapter 6

His True Love's request to pleasure him with her mouth still echoing in his head, Rumplestiltskin watches with wide, despite everything still somewhat disbelieving eyes when she crawls off his lap and moves to kneel down on the ground between his feet.

"Is there something for your knees?"

No matter how distracted he is, having all but forgotten that they are in their really rather comfortable living room in the first place, he dreads the possibility of Belle getting uncomfortable in any way.

He may be beyond fearing that the intimate acts between them as such will harm her, but he would also loathe any other sort of unpleasantness to happen to her, such as sore knees.

She's back before his baffled mind has processed that she has stood up and moved several steps aside, triumphantly retrieving the folded quilt that they love to cuddle under and placing it between his slightly parted feet.

Despite the current state of his brain, Rumplestiltskin is very much aware of her heaving chest and all but burning eyes, her anticipation somehow matching his own.

Both of them are panting when she reaches for the belt of his already unbuckled and unzipped trousers, using it as leverage to drag the crumbled fabric to his knees. He assists her as well as he can, pushing his lower body up by resting his weight on both his arms.

There's a few seconds of stillness when she subsequently reaches for the edge of his tenting boxers, but the pause is caused by a mutual need to savor this moment rather than by hesitation. When he nods shakily, it's to encourage her to stop teasing and do what both of them want her to do.

That doesn't mean that he isn't nervous when they drag his boxers to his knees as well. When his length springs free from underneath the elastic waistband of his underwear, it's after all the first time that she sees him like this and, indeed, the first time that  _he_ looks down at himself this way, his True Love watching him with wide eyes.

But she smiles up at him, taking her eyes off his manhood for a second to establish eye contact with him, wordlessly confirming that everything is more than fine.

Rumplestiltskin was quite convinced that the situation couldn't get any better than this, but he has to revise that implicit thought when she leans back slightly to unbutton her blouse with a mischievous smile, giving him his very first view of her mostly bare torso and the tantalizing, partly wet and see-through blue lace that covers her breasts.

"Please go slowly, sweetheart."

Staring at her chest, these are the only words he can think of right then to remind her that just about everything is going to be too much for him now.

She nods in acknowledgment, still smiling, as if she  _likes_ the notion that she has done this to him, that she has driven him wild with desire to the extent that, even after a while without direct touch, he is still ready to burst.

Breathing harshly through his mouth when she settles on her knees and rests her hands on his thighs, he might as well be on the verge of losing consciousness when she closes the majority of the distance between them. But rather than initiating the contact he both apprehends and  _needs_ , she just studies him with great care and reverence for an endless while.

Belle continues to smile all that time and there's no escaping that she truly enjoys seeing him like this. But although he knows that it's the first time that she watches a man like this, there's no denying that she's driven by far more than academic interest.

Rumplestiltskin stops breathing altogether when she bows her head to cross the final inches, her glorious hair brushing his thighs as if he is able of dealing with any more sensations.

He groans loudly when she kisses his tip lightly, again and again, his world entirely reduced to the pleasure where she touches him and the way it spreads throughout his entire being. He's whimpering by the time she takes him into her mouth and suckles experimentally on him.

Grabbing on to the last shreds of his self-control, Rumplestiltskin does his utmost best not to thrust into her mouth, more than anything not wanting to make the experience unpleasant for her.

Being as undeservedly considerate and kind as she is, Belle for her part keeps her touches light and careful, doubtlessly knowing that he's on the verge of losing complete control over himself.

Even when she wraps her hand around his base and strokes the part of him that she can't take into her mouth, perfectly mimicking the example that the actress on the screen provided earlier, her grasp is blessedly loose and her movement is delightfully slow.

She may provide about the minimal amount of friction and pressure possible, but it's still almost too much to him. Forcing his eyes open so he can see for himself that this is truly happening, the sight of Belle pleasuring like this while sitting between his spread legs almost undoes him.

Digging his nails harshly into the palms of his hands so he might be able to endure this exquisite torture for just a while longer, he closes his eyes again and focuses solely on the softness and heat of the wet paradise that her mouth is to him, of the pressure and texture of her tongue against the most sensitive part of him.

Despite his best efforts, there is no holding back the bucking of his hips and the mounting pressure in his lower abdomen. Sensing that the end is near, Rumplestiltskin reaches for her to brush a warning finger against her cheek.

Much to his despair, his True Love doesn't get the hint.

"Sweetheart, you should stop," he grunts, clawing at the couch with his free hand in a helpless attempt to find something to hold on to.

She shakes her head ever so slightly, with him still in her mouth, the new sensations almost undoing him.

"I'm not done yet," she says, positively smirking around him as she releases him just far enough to be able to make her words intelligible. Her words vibrating against him, he falls back onto the couch, his hips shoving himself further into her without permission.

"Belle!" he cries out in alarm, "I'm going to..."

There's no finishing that sentence, not when she simply takes in more of him in response, making very clear that she doesn't intend in the slightest to stop now.

Rumplestiltskin doesn't know whether to panic or be relieved, until this moment convinced that it went beyond saying that he shouldn't find release in her mouth, not this very first time at least, when both of them still hardly know what they're doing.

"Sweetheart..." It's a plea, but he doesn't know what for.

He knows that it'll only hasten the arrival of the unavoidable ending, but there's no looking away from her any longer, no closing his eyes, especially not when Belle takes in yet more of him with apparent eagerness, just when another wave of hot, coiling pleasure has his hips rolling on their own accord.

Rumplestiltskin cries out in dismay when she gags as a result of him accidentally pushing himself too far into her mouth. His arousal immediately forgotten, he bends over to put hopefully comforting hands on her arms, steadying her as she coughs and gasps for breath.

To his bewilderment, she glances at his lap as if she's more worried about the task he wanted her to abandon rather than the fact that he choked her despite his utmost attempt to prevent something exactly like that from happening.

"Careful, sweetheart. Just try to breathe, that's what's important."

To his relief, Belle does just that, recovering quickly as she takes in deep lungfuls of air. Soon enough, she is breathing freely again, that intent look back on her face when she shifts her attention back to him, still standing to attention.

"Can I..."

"No, sweetheart, no," he says, interrupting her. "I'd rather you didn't. Not like this."

"What do you mean?" she asks, looking meaningfully at his still half-hard length. To his relief she sounds more confused and surprised than hurt or rejected.

"I can't possibly describe how good it felt what you just did to me," he tries to explain. "Feeling like that, I can't hold back the way I should. Not yet, at least... although I don't know whether I'll ever be able to."

"You're afraid that you'll hurt me," she says, concluding exactly what he hoped she would.

"Exactly, sweetheart. I can't guarantee your comfort if...  _when_  I lose control."

"I really appreciate your concern, Rumple. Of course I won't do anything you don't want me to. It's just... not everything will be perfect at first. There are bound to be some little accidents here and there. But I don't think that means we shouldn't..."

She falters, looking from his face to his lap and back up again.

"Let's talk later," Belle grins, rising herself on her knees. "Is there anything else you have in mind? Another way of touching you, I mean?"

He nods, stupidly, not quite remembering the idea he had earlier when faced with such easy understanding and selfless affection.

"Come up here?" he asks softly, gesturing at his thighs. Rather than continuing one way or another where they just left off, he just wants to have his True Love close to him, to have her in his arms, pressed against his chest.

She nods in agreement and clambers onto his lap. Minding his bad leg, she rests her weight on the thigh of his good leg, then enthusiastically slants her lips over his.

Kissing her back for all he is worth, their earlier mishap is forgotten when he tastes himself on her lips and his hands explore her now partially bare sides. Indeed, it's like they haven't paused at all when she grinds herself against him as he returns to full hardness, leaving him squirming beneath her and growling into her mouth.

No matter how much he enjoys kissing her like this, deeply and hungrily, he breaks his mouth away from her, afraid that he'll accidentally bite her in a far from pleasant way now that the pleasure inside of him is building once more, only more quickly so than before now that he isn't mostly focused on holding his body somewhat in check.

She must have understood him, for rather than trying to reclaim his lips, Belle starts mouthing at his neck with equal vigor, returning to the spot that made him see stars earlier.

Nuzzling her neck, panting against it, he wishes that he could marvel at the waves of pleasure washing over him, to savor the sensations of his nearing peak for as long as possible.

But there's no contemplative enjoyment possible, not when he's helplessly jerking against her, mindlessly pleading for 'more' and 'faster', not even when she places one of his hands on her breast and guides the other to her backside.

Blindly groping her as she continues to move against him, he discovers that the current friction isn't enough to get him over the edge before he loses his mind, that this gradual ascend might as well drive him mad.

Understanding him like he doesn't always know himself, Belle simply reaches between them and takes him in her hand. After his frantic nod, she strokes him firmly and purposefully, having him coming apart abruptly and overwhelmingly.

Muffling the primal noise of his completion against the damp skin of her neck, he shakes and trembles beneath her, his entire body straining as he clings to her, spurting and throbbing.

Even as he goes limp in her arms, his eyes still closed and his head falling back, she continues to stimulate him, her touch slow and gentle once more, until he is a whimpering, boneless and utterly spent mess on the couch.

"Sweetheart..." he mutters weakly, wanting her in his arms but not quite able to achieve that any longer.

"I'm right here,"she says fondly, embracing him.

He is distracted out of his world of sated bliss by a damp, sticky feeling between them. When she moves back, startled by the sudden tension in his body, his cheeks color once more now that everything is said and done when he takes in the sight of her stomach.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he rasps, horrified to see the evidence of his release on her like this, to realize that he was too far gone to notice this earlier.

"I quite like the sight of it," she says quietly, her sincere words drawing another groan from him.

"You really are impossible," he sighs with fondness and disbelief alike.

"So are you," she just says, playfully nudging his shoulder.

"This won't do," he mutters decisively, reaching for his pocket square in the suit jacket he turns out to be still wearing without a second thought.

He brushes the two halves of her unbuttoned blouse slightly apart with reverent fingers, so he can dab all stickiness away.

"Was that what you were warning me for?"

It takes his dazzled mind a while, but then he realizes that Belle is referring to the moment when he tried to stop her when she had him in her mouth.

"Yes," he says, nodding. "Although I of course didn't mean to choke you, either."

"As I said before, that was just an accident. I... I want you to know that I wouldn't have minded at all for that to have happened in my mouth."

She blushes and he does yet more so when she nods in the direction of his lap.

"Only if you would like to, of course. I don't mind that you stopped me this time, or any time... I'm glad that you did, if you weren't comfortable with it. But for the future... please don't think I don't want to do it."

"I'll keep it in mind," he replies weakly, once more bewildered and mesmerized alike by his True Love.

The skin on her belly is all cleaned up by then, only for him to realize that the hand with which she brought him to climax is still covered in his seed. Hurriedly reaching for it with his handkerchief, Belle brings her hand towards her face, out of his way.

Looking at him intently, she slowly licks her fingers clean one by one, making a noise which he can only interpret as appreciation. Never breaking eye contact with him, she offers him her hand when she is done. Both of them shiver pleasantly when he runs his tongue over her fingers as well, sampling both their tastes.

That leaves them with the mess at the source of it all. Nodding to answer her unspoken question when she reaches for his pocket square again, he watches in worshipful awe as Belle tenderly cleans up the rest of him, his no longer hard but still sensitive length twitching weakly when she caresses him with the soft silk.

"Could you do that for me as well?" she asks when she is done, folding the pocket square until a still pristine piece of fabric is revealed.

He nods in agreement, slightly pulling the layers she's still wearing aside to make room for his hand. Taking the material from her, he dabs at the inside of her upper thighs, and between them, looking with awe at the moisture he retrieves. Her eyelids flutter and a quiet moan escapes her at the solely functional touch.

Foolishly, he briefly entertains the question whether he could send her over the edge again. But even as Rumplestiltskin wonders just how long it might take for her to find release again if he were to move his silk covered hands between her legs like this, whether it would suffice at all, he realizes just how exhausted he is after what they have experienced already – and that she isn't in a much better state than he is.

His hand falters completely however when it dawns on him that it was only that particular part of him which brought her to completion, whereas Belle almost got him there by taking him so generously into her mouth.

"What's wrong?" she asks with concern, somehow once more immediately sensing that he's upset.

"I... I didn't use my mouth," he says dumbly, looking at her in shock, horrified but in retrospect hardly surprised that he hasn't succeeded after all in making this as good for her as he possibly could.

"Didn't use your mouth for what?" she asks, confused.

Feeling like a complete idiot, he looks pointedly at the handkerchief as he gently withdraws it from beneath her legs. Whereas she was more than eager to pleasure him with her mouth, he didn't get beyond using his hand - simply because taking another step further didn't occur to him at the time, despite mentally taking notes when they watched the movie together.

"Oh!" she says, realization visibly dawning. "That's all right. We're just getting started, aren't we?"

"Are you saying that it would be all right with you if I would try to make it up to you next time?" he asks, feeling unusually courageous in his attempt to make this right – for himself, at least. Being the angel that she is, Belle doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he missed this opportunity.

"Yes," she simply says, beaming at him. "Just wait with that next time for a few hours, will you? I can barely sit up any longer."

"Neither can I," he admits, despite himself already shivering delightfully at the prospect of continuing what they have started, of exploring her with his mouth, hopefully bringing her the pleasure she gave him in a similar way.

"Let's rest now," she says calmly, before looking positively wickedly at him, "and let's see what happens once we've regained our strength."

Before he can respond, she takes the soiled pocket square from his fingers. Folding it to slightly resemble its previous shape, she puts it back in his pocket with an equally mischievous smile. Subsequently, she retrieves the quilt from the floor on which she rested her knees earlier and helps him to get his boxers and trousers back into place.

"I don't feel like going anywhere else," she says. "What about you?"

"Me neither," he replies, happily letting her guide him down onto the couch until he is almost horizontal on the seat, only his head tilted upwards where it lies against the armrest.

"Is this all right?" she asks, settling herself onto him with one leg on either side of his and her head pillowed on his chest, right above his heart.

"Perfect," he breathes, complete exhaustion rapidly catching up with him now that he's lying down.

"It is," she sighs, pulling the quilt over both of them to keep them warm.

Lying there like that, with his undeniably satisfied True Love in his arms and both of them wholly relaxed, Rumplestiltskin is happier than he thought he could possibly be.

"I love you," he whispers, caressing her curls with his last strength.

"I love you, too," she replies, snuggling more closely against him.

"Thank you, Belle," he adds, very much aware that none of this would have happened if it weren't for her initiative. "Thank you for everything. Especially for being brave... for being  _you._ "

"You were brave too, Rumple. Thanks for watching the movie with me, and for trying some of the things in it with me."

"It was my pleasure, sweetheart," he just replies, burying his nose gratefully in her still damp tresses. "Thank  _you_ for giving me this chance."

"You're very welcome. It was my pleasure, too, but I'm sure you've noticed that."

"I did," he mutters, awed - and still hardly able to believe it.

No matter how much Rumplestiltskin wants to consciously cherish the wonderfulness of what they just experienced, of the crippling weight that has been unexpectedly lifted off his shoulders, his eyes are soon falling closed now that Belle and he share their most enjoyable embrace yet.

"And just so you know," she whispers just before he drifts off to sleep, "next time you can use your mouth on me as much as you like."


End file.
